


Delicate Balance, A

by westwingfanfictioncentral_archivist



Category: The West Wing
Genre: F/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2002-04-01
Updated: 2002-04-01
Packaged: 2019-05-15 19:40:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,190
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14796695
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/westwingfanfictioncentral_archivist/pseuds/westwingfanfictioncentral_archivist
Summary: Donna and Josh struggle to understand the past, so they can have a future.





	1. Delicate Balance, A

**Author's Note:**

> A copy of this work was once archived at National Library, a part of the [ West Wing Fanfiction Central](https://fanlore.org/wiki/West_Wing_Fanfiction_Central), a West Wing fanfiction archive. More information about the Open Doors approved archive move can be found in the [announcement post](http://archiveofourown.org/admin_posts/8325).

**A Delicate Balance**

**by:** Evelyn 

**Category/Pairing:** Josh/Donna  
**Rating: YTEEN**  
**Summary:** Donna and Josh struggle to understand the past, so they can have a future. Spoilers, everything through "Dead Irish Writers."  
**Notes:** I'm really enjoying the writing process, trying new forms of story-telling. I have fun with the fluff pieces because I think that Josh and Donna are delightful characters that make me laugh. But I also am enjoying writing about the more serious side of these two.  
Special thanks to Shelley, whose editing skills are superb, and whose patience is endless. She kindly read this piece again and again, each time offering specific, helpful advice to make it stronger.  


"Where's the Keller file?" 

"On your desk, where you left it last night." 

"I don't see it." 

"Left hand corner, Josh. Look again." 

"I still don't see it." 

I'm standing in the doorway of his office, staring at him, as he frantically searches the right side of his desk for the missing folder. 

"Your other left hand, Josh," I say, with a smile. 

"Don't be cruel, Donna," he answers with a smirk. "It's tough running a country." 

"Yeah, if you say so. But if you don't get to senior staff in less than 60 seconds, Leo's going to start running this country without you." 

He takes off at a clip, and then stops and turns. "Hey, we'll be in New York next week for that thing. There's an afternoon Mets game. Get us some tickets and we'll go before the fundraiser - OK?" And with his trademark mega-watt grin in place, he turns and jogs down the hall. 

Things are better now. It's been about six weeks since Hartsfield Landing and Josh and I are almost back on track. There's an ease in our relationship that was missing all last winter. Well that's no surprise. The look on his face when I told him about Cliff will be seared forever in my brain. He built a wall so high and wide between us that I couldn't figure out a way around or over it. 

My usual bag of tricks, the jokes, the banter, didn't work. I played the jealousy card. "My boyfriend's a lawyer," I offered when I was pushing him to get me out of jury duty. But he blew me off and I could see that mentioning a boyfriend, even a nonexistent one, just added more bricks to his wall. Hell, I even helped him with Amy. I called her to tell her to go over to his apartment so they could enjoy a night in the tropics. Talk about hitting rock bottom. 

But then I began to see a little light sneaking through his wall. I think it started the night the reporter was killed. 

"They have a baby girl named Donna," I told CJ after Billy's wife went home a new widow. "He left behind a little boy and a seven-month old baby girl." 

"Sometimes this job is so damn hard," CJ whispered, her voice ragged. 

"I got offered a job tonight, more money, better hours, fancy title..." I drifted off, remembering how excruciating it had been to witness the raw grief of Billy's widow. And when I turned away from that scene, I found Josh just staring at me. Our eyes locked on each other for a few seconds and I think, at that moment, he knew what we were risking if we kept going the way we were. So did I. I passed on the job. 

The night of Hartsfield Landing was so bitter cold, but there was definitely a thaw in our relationship. I insisted I needed his coat if I were going outside to call the Flenders. "Don't you have a coat," he asked with a smile. "Yours is warmer," I argued. He understood. Each time, I ventured out to plead the case for President Bartlett, I had his coat snug around me, keeping me warm, inside and out. I think that was his way of trying to scale the wall he'd built. 

It's been almost five weeks since he broke up with Amy. It was shortly after the First Lady's birthday party, but he'd been distancing himself from her for a couple of weeks even before that. I could tell because I'd hear him beg off from meeting her for dinner, pleading the press of business. But he could have run out for a quick bite and then come back - like he did when they first got together. He tried to be casual when he told me. 

"Well the wheels finally fell off the wagon. Amy's history," and then he laughed. 

I think he wanted me to say something, but I didn't want to be any part of the end of that relationship. I knew another brick in the wall had just come down, but I didn't need to know the details. I gave him a small smile, and said, "OK. Here's your schedule for this afternoon." 

I heard him mention the breakup to Sam. "Guys like us," Sam started to say. 

"Nah," Josh insisted, "this isn't about hit and run. I just know what I want and Amy's not it." 

With the campaign in full swing, we start work every day before 8 and stay usually until 10 or 11 at night. We eat most of our meals together, either ordering in, or sometimes dashing out for a quick bite, before heading back to the office for a few more hours. 

On the weekends, we've been working at his apartment. In some ways, we're even more efficient there because there are no phones or other interruptions. But at night, we put away the files. 

"Let's get some pizza and watch `The Terminator'," he argues. I think he just likes the title. 

"The pizza fine, but how about `Sleepless in Seattle'," I counter. 

"I'll be asleep in Washington, if we watch that," he insists. 

He hates my "girly" movies, I think his action adventure flicks are absurd. So we'll get both, and keep up a mocking commentary throughout. He always offers me his handkerchief when I lose it and sob at the final happy ending of my hearts and flowers romance movie. 

"Jeez Donna, just how clueless can one guy be? How many times did Tom Hanks mess up before he finally ended up with Meg Ryan," he challenges, oblivious to the irony of that comment. 

"I don't know Josh," I answer, wiping the tears from my cheeks and blowing my nose loudly. 

He just rolls his eyes and pulls me to my feet. "Let's get some ice cream," he says shaking his head at my sentimentality. 

I call him first thing in the morning, to make sure he's up for early staff. And even after we've spent the entire day together, and I've finally gone home, he'll call once more. It's past midnight and he'll want to complain about an umpire at the Mets game or ask what he should get his mother for her birthday - it's always something that's unrelated to work. 

I've made my peace with the way things are between Josh and me - for now. What we have is wonderful and will get us through the next crazy six months. We don't need to complicate things anymore. It's a delicate balance. But after the election, we've got to talk. 


	2. Delicate Balance, A 2

**A Delicate Balance**

**by:** Evelyn 

**Category/Pairing:** Josh/Donna  
**Rating: YTEEN**  
**Summary:** Donna and Josh struggle to understand the past, so they can have a future. Spoilers, everything through "Dead Irish Writers."  
**Notes:** I'm really enjoying the writing process, trying new forms of story-telling. I have fun with the fluff pieces because I think that Josh and Donna are delightful characters that make me laugh. But I also am enjoying writing about the more serious side of these two.  
Special thanks to Shelley, whose editing skills are superb, and whose patience is endless. She kindly read this piece again and again, each time offering specific, helpful advice to make it stronger.  


God, my life is good. The polls are up and even if it's close, I'm pretty sure we can pull it off. Four more years of Bartlett. Four more years with Donna. 

It's the little things that tell me that we're back on track again, almost back to us. When she insisted she needed my coat to brave the cold on the night of Hartsfield Landing; the fact that I could tease her about taking it; that she kept it on all night. 

She took my breath away the night of the First Lady's birthday party. She was so beautiful, I couldn't keep my hands off her. I couldn't talk to her enough, but still she seemed just beyond my reach. 

The past six months were worse than Rosslyn and I finally figured out why. Even in my darkest days in the hospital, during the recovery and physical therapy, even with the constant pain, most especially that Christmas, when I couldn't get past the sirens I kept hearing in my head, I had Donna. And when I thought about how shitty my life was, I always, somewhere in the back of my mind, heard a still small voice that told me that Donna would find me and bring me back safe. 

But then things spiraled totally out of control, so fast that I couldn't catch my breath. When she first said that Ainsley had set her up on a blind date, I looked down to hide my smirk. Another Gomer to mock. Comic relief in the midst of chaos. 

"He's with the Government Oversight Committee," she blurted out. 

Oh, my God. This wasn't one of her typical idiot boys. I knew him. He wasn't some insurance lobbyist who would bore her to tears within five minutes. He was funny and smart and, hell, we'd probably be friends, if I didn't want to blow his brains out. 

I looked at her face. She hadn't said the words, but I knew she'd slept with him. 

"You can't see him again," I shouted. 

I went into my office and shut the door. 

She told Sam that she knew I was pissed with her. Yeah, right. Being shot was a piece of cake, in comparison to finding out that Donna slept with Cliff. 

Sitting on the bench, waiting for that bastard to read her innermost thoughts, I tried to reassure her. "It's going to be fine," I murmured. But she didn't even look at me. She looked so lost. I tried to put my hand on her back, but the stiffness of her spine betrayed her emotions. And once the danger was past, I just kept putting more and more distance between us. 

"I'm ensorcelled," I told Toby. 

Amy's exactly the kind of woman I've dated for the last 20 years. Smart, bright, ambitious - and I hated it. There was none of the easy- going, let's talk about the Mets or some oddball, esoteric piece of trivia that always leaves me in awe of Donna's insatiably curious mind. Was Amy the anti-Donna? 

Could I have rubbed Donna's face in it more? 

"I'm meeting Amy for drinks" I told her, "at Wilson's," I added. I knew it was one of Donna's favorite bars. Too damn bad. 

"It's going to snow 20 inches," Donna pointed out. I'd promised her a ride home. I just kept walking out the door. 

"I was supposed to go to Tahiti with Amy and had to cancel," I whined. "I need you to help me fix this. Just call Amy and tell her to meet me at my apartment." 

Jesus, even I'm overwhelmed at my arrogance. 

"So Amy's magic has worn off," Toby told me the night after the First Lady's party. He'd heard about the argument we'd had over the campaign job. Was there anyone who hadn't heard about Amy's grandstanding with Abbey? 

"I'm not sure there ever was any magic," I sighed. I didn't even care about the argument. I knew what I wanted and Amy wasn't it. 

Donna didn't say much when I told her that Amy and I had broken up. But she did give me one of her enigmatic smiles, the kind that always leaves me wondering what she really is thinking. Then she started talking about my schedule, and Amy was gone for good. 

Sometimes I think she's perfectly satisfied with the way things are between us. I wish I were. 

It's so easy with Donna. I can spend an entire day with her and still have something that I need to tell her before I go to sleep. Something that can't wait until morning. Or maybe it's just hearing her voice one more time before I close my eyes. I don't ever have nightmares when I hear her just before drifting off. 

"Night, Josh. I'll call you in the morning." 

That gets me through the night until she calls to wake me up. 

It's a delicate balance we've got going here. It's going to be crazy for the next six months. The election is going to be close. I can't take any chances. But after the election, we've got to talk. 


End file.
